Lightning Triumphant
by feedthegrimmjows
Summary: Lady Jupiter is the maker of death. - Nephrite, Jupiter, and the end.


_**Disclaimer:**_ _I don't own Sailor Moon._

 _ **Summary: Lady Jupiter is the maker of death. - - Nephrite, Jupiter, and the end.**_

 _Okay, so this just came out of no where. I love Makoto and I love Nephrite and I just wanted to write some Jupiter being badass and killing all the people during the fall of the Silver Millennium. Or, well, that's what this was supposed to be. It kind of mutated into its own beast. I really hope that y'all enjoy. This is my first time writing for this fandom on this account and it would be awesome to receive some feedback! Thanks for reading!_

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 **Lightning Triumphant**

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She is a whirlwind, all power and grace, slashing down enemies all around her, sweat gleaming off her brow. The stench of blood and bodies permeates the air around them. A man's last words are taken before he can speak them. Her eyes are hard green stones in her face, her skin splashed with blood and grime and gore. A long, slender arm stretches out to her side, while her eyes stare forward. Lightning flickers from her fingertips and a man screams. The scent of burned flesh joins the cacophony of scents around them.

Lady Jupiter is the maker of death.

A man tries to sneak up on her and she whirls, jamming a lightning-coated fist into his stomach. The glow of her power shoots through his back and he crumples to the ground, his death rattle barely heard amongst the carnage. She does not flinch.

They tried to take this kingdom and they were paying for it.

Her hair is down from its usual style, auburn strands floating around her face. The sky above her is angry, roiling and rumbling with an oncoming storm. The skies know the goddess of thunder is fighting, and they are chiming in with the beginnings of their warcry.

While beautiful, she is a fighter by nature, and she uses no weapons to enhance her abilities. Her greatest joy is the feel of fist on flesh, the thrill of her power searing through another body. The sizzle of the power running through her fingers, small bits of static clinging to her clothes. Kissed by lightning - blessed by it, damned by it.

Body after body after body. She makes a clearing, taking them down one by one. They had underestimated this kingdom, that was true.

She hears two men racing at her from behind. She spins, kneeing one of them in the gut and elbowing one in the back of the head. The two figures fall to the ground, unconscious but not dead. A strange mercy, considering.

He inhales shakily, an odd gesture for him. He is normally calm, composed, ready for any battle.

But not this one.

His fingers grip the sword in his hand, eyes scanning the battlefield. There are no more of his soldiers surrouding him. The last of many skids to a halt at his feet, a bloody hole in his torso, mouth hanging agape and eyes like marbles.

Jupiter locks her gaze on him, notes his weapon, and smirks.

Lightning erupts from her fingertips, but it does not connect with his body - he'd be a goner for sure if so. The energy crackles and molds itself into a stunning sword, crackling and flaring like a lightning bolt in her hand. Her hand grips its hilt tightly and the energy flares brighter.

His heart stops in his chest.

She lunges, the sound of battles farther away urge her on. He raises his sword to block her thrust and is nearly brought to his knees with the force of it. He grits his teeth so hard he thinks they may shatter. He holds fast, though, holds true. His arrogance won't let him fall so easily, not after all this time. She looks at him, their eyes meet -

 _\- hands grasp at flesh, fingers pull at hair, heady moans and wanton embraces. Those green eyes, so expressive with love and staring up at him as if he molded the very Earth. He breathes her name against the column of her throat and she arches into his touch -_

Those eyes, so expressive before, are now hard emeralds within the expanse of her face. There is no compassion, no love, nothing there. Not a modicum of what was and what could have been remains within her.

"My lady..." he starts, surprised with the gentleness with which he speaks.

Her eyes flicker for a moment, before hardening once more.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her voice does not waver. She shoulders on. Their swords clash - once, twice, thrice - with the sound of thunder.

He is quick on his feet - has to be. For all her brute strength, he needs speed. If he falters just once, he is over.

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Those eyes catch his yet again, and another memory sears into him -

 _\- the Lady Jupiter in her garden, among her roses, eyes closed and a relaxed smile on her face. He plucks a rose from the garden, pricking his fingers slightly, and hands it to her. She smiles, and breathes in the rose's clean scent. Her eyes meet his. His fingers brush away a stray strand of auburn hair and their lips meet -_

As if reading his mind, Jupiter cries out, breaking the monotony of their dance, and slashes his shoulder. He winces, but keeps hold of his sword, although his footing is shaky.

 _You deserve this,_ he thinks, and the voice sounds strangely like hers.

 _You betrayed her._

 _You betrayed everyone._

And Nephrite has no choice but to weather the storm he has caused.

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 _ **End.**_


End file.
